


Ten

by emynn



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emynn/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian only believes in celebrating accomplishments. This is a pretty fucking big one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten

**Author's Note:**

> Written to celebrate what would have been Brian and Justin's 10th anniversary had they gone through with their wedding. Happy non-anniversary, boys! <3

Justin studied his progress in his sketchbook and frowned. The image was so clear in his mind, but on the paper, it looked flat, incomplete. He lightly rubbed his thumb over the curve of Brian’s lip, his mouth shaped in stunned disbelief, joy beginning to glimmer in his eyes as he heard Justin agree to marry him. It was a nice picture, but it didn’t feel real. Not in the way Justin remembered it.

Frustrated, he set the sketchbook aside. He’d just have to break out his paintbrushes later. That was a memory that deserved to only be portrayed in bright, vivid color. 

Strong arms hugged his chest, and Justin reached up to clasp Brian’s hand. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Can’t blame you, when you’ve been toiling away trying to capture my youthful beauty.” Brian kissed Justin’s cheek. “And that awful haircut.”

Justin laughed. “I liked it.” 

“Well, you also liked when I shaved my head after Gus gave me lice,” Brian said, moving to sit next to Justin on the couch. 

“You looked hot,” Justin said.

“I looked like a fucking alien,” Brian said, shuddering.

“Well, maybe next time you get lice you won’t get wasted in an attempt to fight the itchiness and then decide shaving your head is the best solution before I return home with the RID,” Justin said, and gently carded his fingers through Brian’s hair.

“There won’t be a next time,” Brian said. He closed his eyes and butted his head against Justin’s hand, like an affectionate puppy eager to be scratched behind the ears. “Believe me.”

“Fingers crossed,” Justin said, and dug his fingers deeper into Brian’s scalp, smiling when he let out a small moan.

“So what brought on the need to draw that?” Brian asked. “Not that I have any objection to your immortalizing me with fewer wrinkles, of course.”

“Laugh lines,” Justin corrected, and kissed the ones closest to him. “I just… do you know what today is?”

“Thursday? Thai takeout night? The day all accountants across the country invade the bars and, yet again, decide _this_ is the year they’re finally quitting?”

Justin laughed, already feeling the burn of embarrassment at being so sentimental prickling over him. “Yeah. All that.”

“ _Or_ is it what would have been our tenth anniversary, had we actually gotten married?” 

Justin blinked, taken aback by the quietness and intensity of Brian’s voice. “What?”

Brian reached for Justin’s other hand and entwined their fingers together. “Sunshine, you must know by now I have an _impeccable_ memory.” He paused, rubbing his thumb over Justin’s bare ring finger. “Do you regret not going through with it?”

“No,” Justin said immediately. “We were doing it for the wrong reasons, and the timing was off.”

“But…”

Justin shrugged. “But nothing. It didn’t really make a difference, did it? What would marriage have been? A commitment to love each other forever, to spend the rest of our lives together? Seems like we ended up there anyway, even without a minister there to give us her blessing. And when were we ones to need somebody else’s approval of our relationship on how we live our lives, anyway?”

Brian laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “You make a convincing argument. But I _know_ there’s a but lurking around there somewhere.”

“There’s always a butt lurking around you,” Justin said, grinning.

Brian nudged him, hard, with his knee. “Spill.”

Justin sighed. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m thrilled with how we ended up. I know it was the right thing to do, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But just knowing how close we came, knowing there could have been a world where we _did_ get married, where we _would_ be celebrating our tenth anniversary today… I don’t regret not getting married, but somehow, I can’t stop thinking about what if we had. What our wedding would have been like. If all this would have still happened. Where I would have lured you off to our second honeymoon this week.”

Brian nodded, pursed his lips. “All our wedding gifts. Ten years worth of anniversary presents.”

Justin laughed and swatted the back of Brian’s head. “It’s not about the presents, you jackass.”

“Oh, it’s not?” Brian asked, the very disturbing picture of perfect innocence. He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a very familiar small box. “Then I should just keep this?”

Justin’s breath caught in his throat. “Brian.”

“It’s no fun staring at a closed box, Sunshine,” Brian said, pushing it into Justin’s hand. “Open it.”

His hands shaking ever so slightly, Justin obeyed. As he expected, their old wedding bands glinted up at him. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the new way they sparkled, each of them now adorned with three tiny yet tasteful diamonds. 

“I hear diamond jewelry is the traditional gift for a tenth wedding anniversary,” Brian said. 

“Technically, it’s aluminum,” Justin said without thinking, his attention still locked on the rings.

“Fine. You can make yourself a ring out of Reynolds Wrap, and I’ll wear diamonds on my finger,” Brian said. “Your call.”

Justin looked up at Brian, who looked far too amused for his liking. “Is this a proposal?”

Brian’s expression turned serious. “Do you want it to be?”

Justin glanced back at the rings, then back at Brian. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I mean, it wouldn’t change anything. We’ve never needed a piece of paper to prove we love each other.” He looked back at the rings. “But I _really_ want to wear this.”

Brian laughed. “Good, because I spent a fucking fortune on them,” he said. He removed the smaller of the rings from the box and slipped it easily over Justin’s finger. “Glad to see you haven’t added any pudge to your finger in the past decade, or else that would _completely_ kill the romance of the moment.”

“Jackass,” Justin said. He knew he was grinning ear to ear, knew he likely looked like a jackass himself, but he couldn’t help it. He took a moment to admire the ring on his finger, to feel its reassuring weight of it, and then reached for the other ring. Brian didn’t take his eyes off him as he slid it onto his finger, and Justin knew if he painted him in this very moment, he would look just like the man who had proposed to him ten years ago. And when Brian joined their newly decorated hands together, then pulled Justin in for a long, heated kiss, Justin was again reminded of what Brian had told him so long ago, that it was only time. What they had, the love their shared, that affection and loyalty and pride and every other emotion that still threatened to consume Justin whenever he looked at Brian, was timeless.

“So what brought all this on?” Justin asked when they finally parted, a little breathless and more than a little hard. “You’re not one for Hallmark greeting card celebrations.”

“No,” Brian said. “But I’d say this was quite the accomplishment for us, wasn’t it? Ten years since I was finally able to admit what you somehow knew all along. There were some who never thought they’d see the day.”

Justin smiled. “Yeah. Like me.”

“And me,” Brian said. He looked down at their still conjoined hands. “I would have married you ten years ago. And I wouldn’t have regretted it.” 

Justin brushed his thumb along Brian’s cheekbone. “But do you regret not getting married?”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Of course not, you twat. When have I ever lived my life with regrets?”

Justin grinned and pressed his lips to Brian’s once more. “We should celebrate.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Brian said, raising their hands and waving them in Justin’s face. Their rings sparkled cheerfully in the light. 

“I mean a party,” Justin said. “You’re right. This _is_ a big accomplishment. And we should celebrate with all of our friends.”

“I knew it,” Brian said, smirking. “You want the presents. Are you thinking Armani or Prada?”

“I’m _thinking_ that I know my mom’s still sad she never got to dance with me at my wedding reception,” Justin said. He paused. “Honestly, though, by now, I think she’s more upset she didn’t get to dance with you. There are definitely times I wonder if you’ve replaced me as her favorite son.”

“That’s what happens when you forget your mother’s 50th birthday,” Brian said. “You got bumped.”

“I didn’t forget!” Justin protested. “I was in LA and the time difference screwed me up.”

“Too late. Literally. The damage was done.”

Justin rolled his eyes, but Brian just looked so fucking happy, even as he tried to suppress his grin, and Justin couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him once more. “And, you know… since everybody will be there…”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“We could make a game day decision,” Justin said. “Emmett's still ordained from when he married Ted and Blake. He’d already be there. So, if we wanted to… we could just do it. And if not, well, it doesn’t make a difference. We just go out and celebrate with all of our friends.” He brought their hands up to his mouth and kissed Brian’s ring. “No golden gardenias necessary.”

For a moment, Justin worried he had said too much, if he had misread everything and had pushed too far… or, perhaps, not far enough. Brian was staring at him, his face utterly unreadable, and Justin was nearly squirming at the intensity in his expression.

And then Brian squeezed his hand and pressed him down into the couch, kissing him so thoroughly Justin could have sworn they’d managed to tilt the world off its axis. 

“That’s a fantastic idea, Sunshine,” Brian said, pulling Justin up by the wrist and leading them toward their bedroom. “We’ll have to start making plans for when we get back.”

Justin stopped. “Back from where?”

“Oh, did I not mention?” Brian asked, that old infuriatingly mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “We leave for Italy tomorrow night. Why should only married folk get the honeymoons?”

Justin was aware he probably looked like a beached trout, but he didn’t care. “You know, for a guy who doesn’t celebrate anniversaries, you _really_ know how to celebrate anniversaries.”

“Technically, it’s a non-anniversary,” Brian said. “And like I said, I don’t celebrate anniversaries. I celebrate accomplishments.” He pulled Justin toward him, cupped his face. “And I’d say we’re the biggest fucking accomplishment of all time.” He leaned in close, so close if Justin had so much as sighed their lips would have touched. “Don’t you agree?”

Justin brought their lips together, pulled Brian close and held him there. And when he felt Brian’s arms wrap around him so tightly that Justin felt they may honestly somehow merge and become one, Justin could feel himself somehow become even more alive. They’d spent days after days of this, months after months, years after years, and there were still decades after decades to come.

The biggest fucking accomplishment of all time?

Justin had never agreed with anything more.


End file.
